Spirit Boxing

.

Review by g emil reutter

.

There is a richness in American poetry that traces its roots from Levine to Sandburg to Whitman. Poetry rooted in the American spirit, the working class, the knowing of who we are and where we come from. In that chain that links poets to the barbaric yawp of Whitman we can add Afaa Michael Weaver as the next link. Weaver writes poetry that is spiritual yet rooted in realism, the passion for life that is missing from many modern poets who embrace disconnect. From the first stanza of Preachers:

.

Worked in the steel mills, black men

from Virginia, the Carolinas, Georgia

studying the way God whispered

in the hot air of the coke oven, how

the saints waved the smoke rising

up over Baltimore harbor, a pastiche

announcing the hope of generations.

.

…God whispered/in the hot air of the coke oven 

This is not an imagined image, Weaver lived it, saw it, wrote it down. God whispering to the men and women who tended the coke ovens, popped lids, saw the vapers felt the intense heat. These are the people who where worn down by the heat of the oven, soaked with sweat and could hear God whispering.

In part two of The Ice House, 1969 Weaver writes:

.

…If there is power in want,

I want to know it and be free of doubt

to be a man who walks on what earth is,

a solidity of words stolen from dreams

cooked up in the minds of star systems

we know only because we believe

the stories pasted on night skies.

.

Here Weaver the spiritual poet once again joins in the realism of working in the ice house penning these beautiful images. Weaver’s unique ability to combine the spiritual with realism comes into focus time and again in such poems as Repack Room, A Nation of Hands, Interiors, a Miners Home. And then there is this stark realism from the poem The Winepress:.

Men and women come new, fresh,

step into one end of the mills dancing,

come out the other hobbling, coughing

.

up the accumulated frustrations

of paychecks eating away at paychecks,

loan sharks promising to realize dreams.

.

Steel mills chew up workers,

Put the young flesh in their jaws,

Teeth shining with ads for things.

.

In Ode To The Righteous Union he begins in a Bejjing Starbucks, through the City of Cold Love, the Forbidden City to decaying tobacco barns to Virginia:

.

I knew as a boy in Virginia, following

my father’s steps walking long rows,

him following the steps of his father,

each step backward until the first plow

was cast in some old testaments of dirt,

what earth is when it gives life to us, lets

us grow hands that make art from work.

.

And so it is that Spirit Boxing by Afaa Michael Weaver is art from the work of life, of knowing the spiritual rooted in realism that warms and warns with each turn of the page.

 

You can find the book here: https://www.amazon.com/Spirit-Boxing-Poetry-Michael-Weaver/dp/0822964589

 

.g emil reutter is a writer of poems and stories. You can find him here:About g emil reutter

 

.

 

 

 

 

Advertisement

Drowning Like Li Po in a River of Red Wine – Selected Poems 1970-2010

.

Review by g emil reutter

.

I plucked this volume published by Bottle Of Smoke Press back in 2010 from my library to have another visit with the poet A.D. Winans. I have several of his chapbooks but I am always drawn to these selected poems for a good read. Winans is at times plainspoken and as he says you won’t need a dictionary to figure out what he is saying. He brings the heart and soul of America into his poems that reflect the hard times people have and some of the good times. As plainspoken as he is in his realism, he is at his best with images such as this from the 3^rd stanza For William Wantling:

.

The night rolls back its wings

Teeth as cold a naked bone

But neither the night nor

The poet dies quietly

Only the flesh expires

The word linger on welcoming

The taste of ash

And morning comes as no loss

For wherever you are

You survived the pain

Refused to surrender

Earth’s flesh removed from reality

Here in the wakening of dawn

Where the mist smells sweetly

And one can hear the throats

Of birds singing like cannons

In the hour when the spirit

Collects its visions

Replaying them on old walls

Gatsby shots from another era

Stills to fill the void

In a world of runaway tongues

.

Winans is a poet of the working class, the disadvantaged. He lives among them and understands them when they pass into the forgotten world of the jobless such as the first 6 stanzas of The System:

.

There are old men and women

Who have worked all their lives

Who have put in thirty-five

And forty years for the right

To a pension

.

There are old people who have

Worked twenty years

Only to be laid off

Without so much as two weeks

Written notice

Abandoned to seek a living

At half the pay

.

There are old people

Who have worked

Most of their lives

Only to witness

The company go belly-up

And find there is no pension

Fund left

.

You can find them

On park benches

Or wandering lonely supermarkets

Or sitting daily

At neighborhood bars

Nursing their drinks

Like a blood transfusion

.

They come in different flavors

Like lifesavers

Some thin and balding

Some fat and sweating

Some complaining bitterly

Some too proud to let the

Pain show

.

So proud that they eat dog food

And find desert in back alley

Garbage cans

Trapped by false promises

Trapped by a belief in a system

That has abandoned them.

.

 

Winans is the direct link to the Beat/Meat poetry movement and thus its child the Outlaw poetry movement. He writes of Bukowski, Ferlinghetti, Kaufman, Micheline and Burroughs, of politics, his time in Panama and visits to Mexico, of his mother and father, of lost loves, of hard times, of haunting memories such as in the poem. I Kiss The Feet Of Angels:

.

dark starry night

fog creeping in

over the hills

raindrops falling

on the window

I see the faces of old friends

staring at me

ghosts from the past

freight trains steam ships

subway trains carrying their

cargo of death

Rimbaud the mad hatter

Baudelaire

Lorca fed a dinner of bullets

Kaufman a black messiah

walking Bourbon Street

eating a golden sardine

Micheline drinking with Kerouac

at Cedar Tavern

Jesus wiping the perspiration

from his forehead

.

the foghorn plays a symphony

inside my head

I hear the drums

I feel the beat

I kiss the feet

of angels

.

Winans is the last one left in the rodeo when it is all said and done. He has lived the life of a poet. A poet, publisher, performer, promoter of other poets, Winans is dedicated to the craft. At the age of 80 Winans is still creating his art. A new book is forthcoming this year, keep an eye out for it. Until then give yourself a gift and pick up a copy of Drowning Like Li Po in a River of Red Wine.

.

You can find the book here: https://www.amazon.com/Drowning-River-Wine-Selected-1970-2010/dp/0977730085

 .

g emil reutter is a writer of poems and stories. You can find him here:About g emil reutter

Publication Will Resume in January 2017

 

North of Oxford is on a December break and will return in January 2017. Submissions of book reviews, commentary, interviews etc. remain open and we hope to hear from you.

Submission guidelines:

https://northofoxford.wordpress.com/contact/

We wish all a fine holiday season and a great new year!

The King of White Collar Boxing

Review by Thaddeus Rutkowski

.

A friend of mine took me to see the only boxing event I’ve ever been to. This friend was a large man, a mixture of black and Asian, and he was a tough guy. He told me he was once attacked by a man with a knife, and to protect himself he simply took the knife away.

.

He and I had seats close to the ring in Madison Square Garden’s Felt Forum, where we could see everything—including flying sweat and spit—clearly. But what was appealing was not the boxers’ punches or footwork, it was the sight of blood. Whenever a gash would open on a boxer’s face or blood would drip from a nose, a roar would go up from the audience. The only thing better than blood was a knockout blow—a quick, final stun.

.

Imagine being in the ring, trading punches, hitting and getting hit. That’s where David Lawrence takes us in this memoir, with vivid descriptions of breaking an opponent’s ribs or, conversely, being knocked senseless. Throughout much of the book, Lawrence lives the lifestyle of a “white-collar boxer”—a professional who trains, spars and occasionally fights in scheduled matches. Most mornings, Lawrence (an insurance-company owner) is driven in his Rolls-Royce to a Brooklyn boxing gym, where he can get some action before starting the day in his Manhattan office. The Rolls, the associated wealth, and an exhibitionistic personality bring Lawrence media coverage. He becomes a niche celebrity, featured in society and fitness magazines, as well as on television. He craves the attention and continues to fight, even though he “turns pro” at a relatively late age, in his mid-40s.

 .

Here is his description of one of his fights, against one-time welterweight champion Buddy McGirt: “Midway through the (third and last) round he caught me with a pretty good hook to the head. It was just a short tight little punch, but I saw stars for a moment. I shook my head and smiled, just to let him know I was a little shaken and I’d appreciate it if he didn’t take my head off. The bell rang and we tapped gloves. I didn’t want it to end. Yet I couldn’t wait to get into the office and tell everyone I had just fought a world-class fighter.”

.

This description contains more than a touch of humor and displays Lawrence’s writerly skills. He holds a Ph.D. in English literature from City University of New York, has taught at Hunter College, and is a published poet, with a collection out from Four Way Books.

.

On another occasion, Lawrence is invited to the “celebrity fights,” held in Donald Trump’s casino in Atlantic City. Former heavyweight champion Larry Holmes is Lawrence’s dressing-room mate, and Trump himself drops by to say hello to Holmes. Lawrence describes Trump as follows: “He was a chubby, arrogant man with hair that lay over his head like a gull’s wing. … He gave me a nod as if to say I didn’t exist. He was the supreme egotist. Worse than me. I’d seen him speak at an insurance engagement. Mindless. He had some sort of idiot savant talent for building.”

.

This description is prescient, written several years before Trump’s presidential candidacy. It can be taken as an exaggeration or a joke, but Lawrence has a gift for stating truths through hyperbole.

.

A couple of sub-storylines run through the memoir. One concerns a federal investigation of Lawrence’s insurance company—the crime is money laundering, and the feds have a strong case. Another subplot involves Lawrence’s relationship with his wife and son. It’s not easy being a family man, a successful business owner and an obsessive boxer, and something has to give. (What suffers is not the boxing.)

.

Still, what comes across most strongly is the deep psychology of the sport (or martial art) of boxing. Once addicted, the boxer never really loses the craving or love for the activity. He can never get enough. He just gets a little older, maybe a little slower. Throughout the journey, I’m glad to say, he stays feisty as ever.

 .

.

You can find the book here: https://www.amazon.com/King-White-Collar-Boxing-2nd/dp/09968384 81/ref=dp_ob_title_bk

.

Thaddeus Rutkowski is the author of the books Violent Outbursts, Haywire, Tetched and Roughhouse. He received a fiction writing fellowship from the New York Foundation for the Arts. http://thaddeusrutkowski.com/

 

.

Star Journal- Selected Poems by Christopher Buckley

.

By g emil reutter

.

There is the constant “I”, “me” and “we” throughout this collection of poems as well as the dated references to popular culture that have passed decades ago. Star Journal – Selected Poems of Christopher Buckley spans 36 years of poetry.

.

There is a quietness to these poems and breakouts of lyrical intensity that define Buckley as a master of the art. This is reflected in the poem, Dust Light, Leaves.

.

Soon, stars will draw analogies/in the dark, but now the world is simple as dead leaves/glowing in this late hour/simple as our desire/ to rise as lucent as clouds/ in their camisoles of dust

.

Buckley delights with images such as this from Prima Facie

.

A wafer of sun/cut across the clouds’ grey scroll, the black edges/ of night bleeding in until bright specks floated up/on the blank plate of space with all our unsupported paradigms for science and for art—the dark ocean.

.

There is the dated references to pop culture such as in the poem There & Then as well to old music, dated vehicles and the constant need to reference his youth in other poems. He even has Antiques Roadshow covered.

.

Buckley is at his best when writing with raw emotion as in this opening stanza of a beautiful poem for his mother, Scattering My Mother’s Ashes: Santa Barbara, CA

.

City of my green sea days and dreams/ I wondered about everything, suspended/before me invisibly beneath the sky/in back of the pearl-colored breakers/the blue cliffs of air…

.

He again shines with an understanding of the human condition in the last stanza of the poem, In Memory of the Winos at the Moreton Bay Fig Tree, Santa Barbara, CA

.

Gently peeling back the bag from the sea-/ green throat, he unscrewed the cap, lifted his head/ sunward and reverently sipped, slowly swallowing/ the burning light, and was thus illuminated before/ recapping the mouth, folding back the bag and passing it/to his neighbor, so that peace would settle over them/ as they did all they could to save their lives.

.

And from the poem Travel

.

Dreamers/ walkers in our easy sleep, we unfolded our arms and/ filled them with lost destinations/the local outskirts of the air, with the last image of the sea/which compares us to clouds under sail/in transit to who knows where.

.

You can find the book here: https://www.amazon.com/Star-Journal-Selected-Poems-Poetry/dp/0822964309

 

g emil reutter is a writer of poems and stories. He can be found here: https://gereutter.wordpress.com/about/

Hard Times -A Novel of Liberals and Radicals in 1860s Russia

.

Review by g emil reutter

.

Hard Times by Vasily Sleptsov is set in the summer of 1863, two years after the emancipation of the serfs by Tsar Alexander II. The Imperial Proclamation coupled with emancipation permitted landowners to mortgage portions of land to the serfs, the mortgages would be financed 80% by the government and 20% by the landowners. The proclamation was set into motion partly due to the Tsar believing the system of slavery in the United States was inhumane. Although the serfs were not slaves they were subject to the same degradation of the slaves. The government set up arbitration committees in each local community to settle any disputes. The United States is embroiled in a bitter and costly civil war over slavery.

.

Translator Michael R. Katz does a wonderful job in bringing this novel into the English language. Unlike other writers of his era, Sleptsov is not weighted down but wrote of social and political realities of his time set in a rural community with a triangle of main characters supported by numerous supporting characters.

.

Shehetnin is a liberal elitist landowner married to Mar’ia Nikolavana. Shehetnin believes in a gradual reform and is dismayed by the liberated serfs who take advantage of him. He treats them in a condescending manner yet refuses to use the courts to correct their stealing and failure to complete work he provides to them. Nikolavana is treated as a house maid instead of a wife by Shehetnin and is beginning to fight for her rights. In steps the radical Riazanov. He arrives as an acquaintance of Shehetin and quickly engages him in arguments over the treatment of the serfs and the slow progress Shehetin is making. Riazanov believes in radical change not gradual reform. He uses biting humor in his arguments with Shehetin and Nikolavana is taking with him. Like the serfs who take advantage of Shehetin, Riazanov also uses Shehetin, not paying room and board during his stay. Nikolavna decides to start a school for the children of serfs, but both men belittle her efforts. Riazanov rejects Nikolavna’s advances even as she displays a new found coldness and rejection of Shehetin. The book is well rounded with supporting characters such as the local arbitrator and various colorful local characters in the community.

.

Hard Times foreshadows the Russian revolution that will take place in the next century. Sleptsov notes the violence and wars encompassing the globe as he writes of the change in this small community and the strife in the marriage of Shehetin and Nikolavna who he uses to champion woman’s rights.

.

You can find the book here:   https://www.upress.pitt.edu/BookDetails.aspx?bookId=36684

.

g emil reutter is a writer of poems and stories. You can find him here:About g emil reutter

 

 

 

 

We Are Now Open For Submissions

 

Submissions:

Submissions of book reviews, essays, and commentary are welcome. Send your submission for consideration of publication in word doc with any images or photographs attached , Include a brief bio. All submissions are to be sent to:  sahmsguarnieriandreutter@gmail.com  Please note in the subject line of the email- submission- your name. Our response time should be less than two weeks.